


she who smokes

by illihee



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 13:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18873697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illihee/pseuds/illihee
Summary: colin gets dunked on by mount st. helens. alfred, to his surprise, seems to care.





	she who smokes

**Author's Note:**

> written for the anniversary of mount st. helens' eruption (may 18, 1980).

⠀⠀There was no noise. At least a hundred miles away there was a sound, even if just a little pop, but ground zero was silent in the heat of the moment. 

⠀⠀At least, Colin didn't hear anything. There was a rumble and a ringing of his ears as he collapsed that faded into the distant, ominous whine of sirens, but somehow – despite everything else endured – he'd been shielded from Lawetlat'la's mighty scream as she pelted the land below her with chunks of cold, half-melted ice and hot pumice. 

⠀⠀The silence was oddly peaceful, he recalled. When he closed his eyes he could still see the plume of ash washing over the sky; out of the corner, the debris-swollen Toutle River rushing towards him in the guise of a lahar. Terrifying, beautiful, awe-inspiring. The quiet swish of muddy water, the hushed creak of a defeated log. Who would have known that something so calamitous, the very thing that dug a deep and horrifying hole in Colin's heart would just as quickly fill it with understanding and ataraxy? 

⠀⠀He opened his eyes again. A ceiling. Slowly he rolled his head to the side, peering sleepily out the window — ash. Nearly two weeks had passed, but traces of ash remained in the cracks of sidewalks outside and in the crevices of the hospital windows, giving them a noticeably grungy look compared to the sanitary white of his room. 

⠀⠀It was also the first time in two weeks he found himself alone. His family and friends crowded him from the moment he was wheeled into St. Johns, broken and sporting burns, matted (melted?) hair and bright, ever green eyes that stood out from his stained black-grey skin like helenite among the rubble. Elliot and Vincent “guarded” his room in shifts; Acelin, Avery, and Jamie visited together, then one at a time, then all together again, keen on the idea that Colin couldn't possibly want to be left alone after eight traumatic hours by himself in the dark, thundering, newly-flattened woods.⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀They understood, but only to a degree. They were tectonic states, volcanic states, fellow survivors of earthquakes and eruptions. They knew what he'd gone through, but not quite what he experienced.  
Colin would go as far as to compare it to an epiphany. He was humbled by Lawetlat'la – his mountain, his Fuji-san, not as tall as Tahoma but for what she lacked in height she made up for in spirit – and that silence was the closest he'd come to experiencing calm in...who knows how long. He couldn't find it in himself to be angry at her, nor regretful for having been there.  
He wanted to keep reliving it. He wanted that serene quiet. It almost lulled him to sleep when the sudden click of the door grabbed at him, jolting him out of his memories. He flinched and groaned softly under his breath. 

_So much for that._

⠀⠀The door opened and he watched intently expecting one of his brothers, but instead of heads of brunette he saw blonde. Strawberry blonde, with an unruly flick of hair that refused to lay back and bounced slightly as the man walked in, closing the door behind him swiftly. 

⠀⠀“...you flew all the way from Virginia to ask me what I was thinking?" Colin shifted in bed, grunting as he adjusted to face the window.  
Not one to be easily turned down, Alfred moved around the bed and pulled a chair away from the wall, turning it around back-forwards and plopping down in front of the state.  
“Will you ever stop assuming the worst from me?” He circled his arms around the back of the chair and held a newspaper-wrapped rose out to the ginger. “I'm not here to slap you on the wrist. Can't, anyways. You're burnt to hell, it would hurt more than I mean it to.”  
Colin clicked his tongue, eyebrows furrowing. “You're not here to criticize me but you are here to taunt me?” After a moment he hesitantly reached his arm out from underneath his blanket, delicately taking the rose and laying it down beside his pillow. His fingers traced the newspaper.  
“Newspaper. You didn't just grab a rose from the store.”  
“Of course not. Do you really think I'd be so impersonal as to send you a generic bouquet of daisies and a Hallmark get well card?”  
Alfred rested his chin on the chair's arch. Colin rolled his eyes.  
“I can't say I was expecting any high gesture of thoughtfulness from you at all.” 

⠀⠀Alfred didn't respond. He simply breathed out deeply, a seemingly relieved sigh.  
“...what?”  
He shook his head.  
“Nothing. I'm just glad you're here.”  
Colin squinted, pulling his curled fist closer to his chest. “Where else would I be? Still laying in a pile of mud somewhere?”  
The nation huffed a laugh. “Could be. By the grace of God, you're not.”  
“It was luck.” 

He only said that to get Alfred off his back. He didn't actually believe it was luck, but he didn't want to risk sounding like he'd had a psychotic break going on about how he believed Mount St. Helens had a spirit looking out for him, even in the midst of her meltdown. 

⠀⠀Alfred sniffed the air – eliciting a marginally weirded out expression from Colin – and twisted to look at the bedside table, where a small wooden box sat alone next to the lamp.  
“That thing smells.”  
“Like trees?”  
“Yeah.”  
“It's qu’ya. Medicine, a bundle of hemlock needles. You chew on them and use them as burn dressing. Mom brought it.”  
It was Alfred's turn to make a face.  
“...are the doctors okay with that?”  
Colin snorted. “Haven't asked. They don't even know I've been doing it.”  
“Well, does it work?”  
“Would we have called something 'medicine' for thousands of years if it didn't work?” 

⠀⠀Alfred paused to consider the argument and shrugged. “Then you won't mind if I...” He leaned to the side, nudged the lid of the cedar box open and pulled out a twig.   
“Ew,” A disgusted tone took up Colin's voice, but he couldn't help the tiny smile hidden behind his hand. “I don't want your slobber on my healing wounds.”  
“Aw, c'mon. I'm healthy! Just got re-vaccinated a few months ago.”  
“No!”

⠀⠀Alfred shoved a stem he'd briefly stuck into his mouth at Colin, who exclaimed and arched away with a stifled laugh before breaking into a nasty cough. The American frowned and set the twig aside to pat Colin's back, but stopped himself before he mindlessly slapped the skin healing under the other's thin gown.

⠀⠀Instead he moved his hand to Colin's cheek, holding it for a second, then petting his hair soothingly. His curls were still dry and fragile from the heat of the initial blast and appeared choppy from completely matted pieces Elliot cut away to make his twin a little less self conscious.  
Admittedly, it made Alfred kind of sad. 

⠀⠀When Colin settled back down and his wheeze went away, he lowered his eyes and stared straight at the red rose petals beside him, blinking back tears from both the cough and a general disdain for feeling weak. So weak that he couldn't even keep pretending that Alfred's presence was a nuisance and the petting of his hair wasn't comforting. 

He still wanted quiet, but maybe he didn't exactly want to be alone. 

“You should stay.”  
“I should?” Alfred scoot closer.  
“At least until Elliot gets back...”  
“Psh. What's shortstack gonna do to me? Pluck me from my chair and carry me out the door?”  
“He might.”

**Author's Note:**

> lawetlat'la is the cowlitz name for mount saint helens. it roughly translates to "smoker". tahoma is the puyallup name for mount rainier.


End file.
